


Winter Storm Warning

by primreceded



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-18
Updated: 2009-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primreceded/pseuds/primreceded





	Winter Storm Warning

**Title:** Winter Storm Warning  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Fandom:** Supernatural  
 **Disclaimer:** All characters, recognizable settings and or themes belong to Eric Kripke, the CW and others. I am in no way earning money or other profit from this fanfic.  
 **Char/Pair:** Dean/Sam  
 **Prompt:** Winter Storm Warning @ [](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/fluffbattle/profile)[**fluffbattle**](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/fluffbattle/) and [Day 16](http://community.livejournal.com/snowballwars/6251.html#cutid1) @ snowballwars on LJ  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Warnings:** Fluff, 1 swear  
 **W/C:** 465  
 **A/N:** None

Dean kicks his boots off on the door frame before he steps into the motel room. The slice in the toe has let a little bit of snow in, soaking the tip of his sock but it’s not enough for him to worry about. Instead he just pulls off his boots, peels off the offending sock and lays it lengthwise over the heater, it’ll dry quick with how high Sam has it cranked up anyway. When it’s dry it’ll still have a couple more good days left in it, maybe a week, no need for him to have more laundry to do.

Sam steps out of the bathroom rubbing a towel through his damp hair and Dean frowns at him. _Good thing you’re not going out in the snow, Sammy_.The last thing he needs is his brother catching pneumonia. Sam smiles at him indulgently before leaning in and then peaking through the bags of food Dean had brought in.

Their room is equipped with a small fridge and a microwave, something that’s going to come in handy over the next couple of days, Dean figures, if by the way the snow coming down is any indication. He slots two half gallons of milk in the door before stacking in the lunch meat and the dozen frozen dinners he’d gotten on sale. The cereal and cupcakes can hang out on the counter.

“Weatherman says we should expect at least ten inches,” Sam says, now seated and munching on some fries from the diner burger meal Dean had picked up for their dinner.

“Well I tell you one thing,” Dean starts as he sits across from Sam and opens his own Styrofoam container, “Those salt trucks better not come anywhere near my baby. That shit eats cars, you know.”

Sam rolls his eyes but nods, doesn’t say anything. They tuck into their dinner and afterwards Dean belches before standing and slipping his sock back on. He opens the door to the motel room, quickly bends down and retrieves the six pack he’d left in the ever growing snow pile by the door.

“It’s Miller time, Sammy-boy,” he says with a grin as he kicks the door closed behind him.

Sam chuckles and takes the proffered beer, plops down onto one of the beds. Dean slides up next to him, cracks open his beer on the side table while Sam flicks the television away from the local news.

He lands on some old black and white movie before burrowing further into the mattress to get comfortable. They’re settled and warm - together - and with at least another day with nowhere to go.

“Here’s to snow days, Sammy,” Dean says and the two of them click the neck of their beers together in cheers before taking a swig.  



End file.
